


Started with a little bit

by AmeliaDarkholme



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaDarkholme/pseuds/AmeliaDarkholme
Summary: There was a reason why Pennywise seemed to target Richie specifically, even more than Bill. There was a reason why It tried so hard to take everything Richie cared about.And that reason had something to do with Britain's first Muggle-born female Prime Minister of Magic.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Richie Tozier, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris, Teddy Lupin & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	1. Wonder how I got by this week

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. I know. I really shouldn't have written another story. As if I didn't have like, fifteen WIPs at the moment-___- But, in my defence, this story is a crossover between my all-time favourite story, and my current favourite. I have written sooo many Harry Potter and It stories, I suppose it's about time I make a crossover of both of them. If you guys have questions, feel free to ask me about it. I'll try to answer as best as I can without spoiling anything ;) Also, I would like to thank my wonderful beta, Oksana Polastri, who's always been there for me for the past...5 years? I will always be grateful that I'm lucky enough to be your friend. Love you :D And um, if you guys are interested to know, I pictured Michelle Dockery as older Prime Minister Hermione Granger. I loved her in The Gentlemen (2019), and I feel like she'd be great as a Prime Minister Hermione ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like this story. Happy reading!

Falling. Flying. Suffocating. _Dying._

He had no idea how long he had spent in the Void. It had felt like he’d been there forever. He had no idea who he even was anymore. He felt nothing and everything at once. Time didn’t seem to exist. _Nothing_ seemed to exist except him. There was some kind of Darkness that kept on trying to engulf him, and it took all his might to fight it. He kept saying to himself, to the Darkness around him, that he _had_ to come back. That he couldn’t leave yet. He repeated it over and over again like a mantra, even though he had no idea why he did that. He didn’t even know where he had to go to. It just felt like he had to be somewhere because there was still something else he had to do.

And then, _light._ Blindingly, bright light. Should he follow it? Where would it take him?

_(A sweet release, hopefully.)_

_(He’s really, really,_ really _tired.)_

He decided to follow it. Wherever the Light would take him, surely it would be better than Nowhere.

Fighting the pull of the Darkness, he reached out his hand, and practically propelled himself into the inviting safety and warmth the Light offered him.

And then there was freedom.

He was finally back home.

* * *

_“You know I have to do this. I’m sorry.”_

_“Stop! Dammit, stop him!”_

_“I’m afraid it’s too late, ma’am. He’s jumped—“_

_“Bloody hell, it_ worked _! Look, someone just came out!”_

_“Wait, wait. Who is it?”_

_“Can someone identify him?”_

_“I’ll do it.”_

_“Oh my God. Is that…?”_

_“Yes. It’s him.“_

_“Hold on. Where’s my cousin?”_

* * *

When Hermione first thought of becoming a Prime Minister, she knew that it was the only way she could really change the British Wizarding World. If she held the highest power in the government, she could oversee everything and make sure that nothing went amiss. After campaigning hard for the position, she was finally elected as the first female Muggle-born Prime Minister, at only thirty years old. She only took a day off to celebrate with her family before she began her work the next day, already with a hundred plans to change the world that she had came up with the very first day she had joined the wizarding community. It took a while because, even though Kingsley Shacklebolt made tons of changes during his time, Hermione planned for something bigger. She met a lot of resistance from many sides, but in the end, she managed to pull through. She managed to build a wizarding society that was the most Muggle-friendly in the world. Her government had even supported a lot of magical inventions and discoveries that helped in developing a better wizarding world. They had discovered cures to a lot of magical maladies, invented a lot of objects that combined both magical and Muggle technologies, and a lot other things. It was wonderful. At the risk of sounding a little vain, she was actually pretty proud of her achievements.

And now, eight years since the day she was elected, she was going to help another magical discovery.

**_PROJECT PROPOSAL_ **

**_MLP186 - The Sirius Black Project_ **

"Always knew that you'd be a leader of a country or something, Herms."

" _Merlin's beard!_ " Hermione gasped, whipping out her wand in the direction of the voice.

Standing by her fireplace was a tall man who looked to be only a few years older than herself. He had curly hair like her, but it was darker than the brown colour she had, almost black. His eyes were slightly obscured by the big glasses he had, but there was no mistaking those blue eyes of his. It was the same pair of eyes that Hermione always saw whenever she looked at her mother. She knew this man. Even if it had been over twenty years since she last saw him. They used to be really close, back when they were just children. Once a year, she and her parents would fly to America to visit his family, and then they'd spend the summer together. He was probably her first best friend in the entire world, until the day she received her Hogwarts letter. Then she became too busy with her new life, and without meaning to, they lost contact. Last time she checked, which was twelve years ago when she came to her aunt and uncle’s funeral, he was an up-and-coming comedian. A celebrity, in his own way. It was only logical that she never thought that there would be a day she'd find him in her office.

That she'd find her supposedly _Muggle_ cousin, Richie Tozier, in her Prime Minister office, at the British Ministry of Magic.

"Richie," Hermione said slowly, lowering her wand. "What are you doing here? No, scratch that. How in the world did you manage to get here?"

"Hello, Hermione. It's very nice to see you. How have you been, cous? Oh, you've become British Prime Minister? That's fucking wonderful. And what's that? You're asking about little ol’ me? Well, I'm doing well myself, thanks for asking," Richie ranted, his tone monotous.

As Hermione frowned at her cousin, about to retort back at his cheeky reply, she noticed that contrary to what he'd said, Richie didn't look well _at all_. He was pale, paler than she knew was the trademarked Tozier complexion. His face was gaunt and there were bags under his eyes. He also looked like he'd lost a lot of weight in a really short period of time. The worst part was his eyes. Hermione remembered growing up thinking that Richie's eyes were the most beautiful pair of eyes she'd ever seen because they were always so alive. Her cousin was always so happy, and it made his whole being light up, starting from his bright blue eyes. But now, as Hermione took a better look at Richie, she found the colour had dulled into a sad grey, and they were devoid of any kind of emotion. It had been twenty-six years since they last saw each other, but that didn't mean Hermione had forgotten the wonderful details about Richie. They were practically siblings.

"What happened to you, Richard?" Hermione breathed out as she made her way towards him. He was much taller at forty-one than he was at fifteen, and Hermione had to look all the way up to look at him. She reached forward to hold his face in her hand, and she couldn't help but to jerk back a little when she felt it.

_Felt the powerful magic coursing through him._

"Turns out we're both more alike than we originally believed, huh?" Richie said with a mirthless smile.

"You're a wizard?" Hermioned asked. Before Hogwarts, she'd always believed that she was all alone. If only she had known that Richie was like her too...

"I am," Richie said in the affirmative. "I never went to Ilvermorny though. Because that would mean that I had to leave my friends and family for a whole year."

"But that's dangerous!" Hermione exclaimed, taking Richie by the hand to take a seat on her couch before she placed herself next to him. "You need to learn how to control your magic, or else—"

Richie waved his hand in placating way. "Calm down, Herms. Don't worry, I know what would have happened to me. I had someone to teach me everything. I'd learned about magic since I was only seven, a year after it first manifested. I was fifteen when I 'finished' my magical education."

Hermione couldn't help herself when she gaped at her cousin. "Your magic manifested that early? At only six years old? And you finished your education at fifteen?"

"Yeah. My teachers were surprised about that too..." On other people, their admittance would make them look like a complete douchebag. But that wasn't the case with Richie, who gave Hermione his trademarked crooked grin when he spoke again. "When did your magic manifest, by the way? You're really intelligent yourself. Smartest person I've ever known, with or without magic."

"I was ten years old. And thank you. Coming from you, that's probably the highest praise I've ever gotten in my life," Hermione said, remembering how brilliant Richie had always been when they were kids. She had often been envious of just how easily he scored all of his A's, almost effortlessly.

"Bullshit," Richie scolded sharply. "You're best friends with Harry Potter, for crying out loud. I've done my research, Herms. I know all about your achievements. And look now, you're the one who's the Prime Minister of Magic. That’s fucking awesome. Meanwhile I, your dearest cousin, am just a glorified clown who tells bad jokes."

"Why did you choose to become a comedian, then?” she quickly asked. “You've always been the smarter one between the two of us, Rich. I thought you were going to be an astronaut or something."

Hermione needed to know. She did care about him, and she needed to understand what had happened to her brilliant cousin.

"Please," Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes in exaggeration as he leaned back on the couch. "We both know with my shit eyesight, I would never have became an astronaut."

"At least a scientist then. Like, perhaps you'd find a cure for cancer or Alzheimer? How did you end up becoming a comedian? What did you study in college? Did you even go to college? And where?"

"Uh, excuse you. I actually graduated _summa cum laude_ from Stanford in English literature. _Then_ I became a comedian. Although my jokes were shit, I was pretty successful. I had a few roles in various shit movies too."

Hermione didn't miss the use of past tense in Richie's story. Something had happened. She might be surprised by Richie's unconventional choice of career, but she could still remember how Richie always made her laugh with his jokes and voices. He had always been good at that. His English accent was always the best, seeing that his father was English, even though Uncle Went more often than not slipped back into an American accent. Hermione remembered than when she and her parents came to visit, watching the hilarious banter between Richie and Uncle Went was always the best part of the visit. So, if Richie hinted that he wasn't telling jokes anymore, something big must have happened to him. And judging from his horrible appearance, it only made sense. He looked like George had in the first few years after Fred’s death.

"I take it that you're no longer a comedian?" Hermione asked carefully. She noticed how Richie's face immediately became devoid of emotion at her question.

"Uh, yes," Richie answered. "I uh... I retired about a year ago."

"Why? Does your wife hate your jokes so much, she insisted that you quit?"

Hermione meant that question as a joke. After all, back when they were children, Richie always told her how he'd have a beautiful wife someday, and they'd have many children together—and he promised that Hermione would be his children's Godmother. Thus, when Richie's eyes started to water, it surprised Hermione. No, that was putting it mildly. She was _shocked_. This was Richie, her cousin who always had a laugh on his face. Richie, whose name had always been synonymous to happiness for Hermione. Even when they were kids, she'd never seen him cry. Not even once. Not even that time when he fell out of a tree and broke his leg. She knew then what had happened to his wife.

" _Oh my God_ ," Hermione said, feeling awful already. "Did...did something happen to her? Shit, Richie, I'm _truly_ sorry."

Richie let out a wet chuckle as he pressed the heels of his palms roughly against his eyes. "I don't have a wife, Hermione."

"You don't? But then what—"

"I'm _gay_ , Herms. And he died before I could tell him I love him."

Hermione blinked. Of all the things she'd expected Richie to say, that was the last thing she had in mind. It wasn't that she was too much of a conservative shrewd. No, her parents were pretty liberal, and homosexuality wasn't exactly an issue in the wizarding world. Her own nephew Louis was gay, for Merlin's sake. Hell, she’d even heard rumours that Albus Dumbledore was gay too. But Richie had always made it known to everyone who would listen to him about all the 'babes' he would charm once he got out of Derry. Then again, maybe Hermione should have known that it was a sign. She felt terrible for not realising it back then, even though she knew it wasn’t her fault. There was a three-year gap between them, and the nineties weren’t really that friendly to gay people, especially in Derry. For her childish, eleven-going-on-twelve-year-old brain, she supposed it was understandable that she hadn’t realised it. It didn’t lessen the guilt though. Like she said before, Richie was her _best_ friend in the whole wide world, way before she met Harry and Ron. He was the closest thing she had to a sibling.

Focusing her attention back on Richie, she found that he was eyeing the picture she had of herself and Ron when they were fourteen. Ginny was the one who took the picture, during that summer when Quidditch World Cup was held. It was one of the few pictures they had of when they were young that didn't have Harry in it. No offense to the Saviour, but that was the reason why she liked the picture so much. She loved Harry as if he was her brother for real, but she always appreciated the rare times she got to be alone with Ron before they got together. Looking at the way Richie was staring at the picture, Hermione couldn't help it when she found herself thinking of the three boys her cousin was friends with. All of them were always really nice to her whenever Richie brought her along to play with them. There was Bill Denbrough, the leader; Stanley Uris, the sane one in the group; and feisty Eddie Kaspbrak.

Or _cute wittle Eddie Spaghetti_ , who always followed Richie around.

_("You're a real cutie, Spagheds. Don't you think so, cous?")_

"Was it Eddie?" Hermione asked in a small voice. She tentatively reached for Richie's hands, and held them firmly in her much smaller ones when she noticed the clench in her cousin's jaw.

"Yes," Richie said, voice just as small. "It was Eddie. I loved him and he died saving my life."

It was like a dam had broken, and Richie told her everything, from the very beginning. He told her about how her Uncle Went and Aunt Mags tried to help him to stop using magic after it manifested, knowing Derry and its conservative ways would only punish Richie for something he couldn't control. He told her about how his magic was _so powerful_ , that it not only caused people to start to notice, but also caused a lot of magical creatures to become attracted to his magic as well, and that they all started to flock around Derry. The sudden rise in the activity of many magical creatures piqued Newt Scamander's attention, who lived in New York with his wife, American Auror Tina Goldstein. Richie was seven when Newt paid his family a visit, and offered his assistance to teach Richie how to control his magic. Newt's wife Tina revealed many years later that they had a personal experience with the consequences of forcing a powerful wizard to stop using his magic. When Richie learned later on how the last known powerful Obscurus nearly destroyed New York in 1926, he was grateful that he had the Scamanders to help him.

Fortunately, Richie's parents were very supportive, so offering them help wasn't a problem. But Derry was still the most narrow-minded town in America, and that meant Richie would still feel pressured to hide his magic. In the end, the Toziers agreed that Newt would personally tutor Richie, although sometimes Tina would either join him or take his place. When Richie turned eleven, he was given the option to attend Ilvermorny. He politely rejected the offer, saying that he didn't want to be separated from his best friends—Bill, Stanley, Eddie _and_ Hermione. Thus, Richie continued his secret magic education through Newt and Tina, finishing way earlier than everyone else in the world by the time he turned fifteen, which also happened to be the year Hermione began her first year in Hogwarts. But because he wasn’t completely an adult until he was eighteen, Newt and Tina continued his education until he was eighteen, teaching him extra knowledge on magical creatures and spells against the Dark Arts, both of which were Newt and Tina’s areas of expertise respectively.

But even when he was only fifteen, Richie had decided that he would give up his magic and live as a Muggle instead—or No-Maj, as it was the term in America. He had made up his mind to do all of that for Eddie, the boy he’d been in love with since he was ten years old. When he had told Newt and Tina about it, they were horrified. Both of them were Purebloods, so they couldn’t imagine living a life completely as a normal human being. There was also the fact that they felt like Richie would be wasting his potential. Richie was stubborn though, and once he set his mind on something, there was no changing it. In the end, the Scamanders managed to convince him to just… _not_ use his magic, unless he really needed. But then he went to California to pursue his dream to become a comedian while Eddie went to New York for college, and Richie forgot his initial plan to marry Eddie. He forgot almost everything about his childhood _but_ his magic.

The day he left Derry also happened to be the last day he talked to Newt and Tina, so none of them ever realised that something had happened to Richie. He could remember them still, because they weren’t part of Derry, but Derry’s evil magic still managed to discourage him from keeping in touch with the Magizoologist and the Auror. He could also remember Hermione, but again, Derry’s magic prevented him from contacting her. For the next twenty-two years, Richie lived his life almost completely all by himself, because he wouldn’t come back home to see his parents. He never used his magic too, not even when he _desperately_ needed it. Like that time when he went two days without eating because he ran out of money. By the time he finally became a successful comedian, Richie had successfully ignored the fact that he was a wizard. Even when he returned to Derry the previous year, he didn’t use his magic at all—which he regretted when it led to Eddie’s death.

“Hold up a second,” Hermione interjected, a slight frown on her face. “ _What_ is wrong with Derry? You spoke of it as if the place had a magical influence on all of you. And why did you come back to Derry again then? If you’d gotten out.”

“Oh,” Richie said, blinking his eyes once in realisation. “Well, you see, there was a dark entity that lived in Derry for millions of years. It was sort of an alien, and It had no permanent form. But because It preyed on fear, It often took the form of a clown, which has always been terrifying, even before Gacy started his killing-spree. As a clown, It named Itself Pennywise the Dancing Clown. But It could turn into whatever scared us the most.

“You’re talking about a Boggart,” Hermione said, her mind already making a list of similarities between the creature she knew and the one Richie was talking about.

“That’s what the rest of the wizarding world knows It as, yes,” Richie confirmed. “But for me and my friends, we know It as Pennywise; the murderous monster that had killed hundreds of children.”

“But, Boggarts can’t kill people. They only scare us. And a simple use of _Riddikulus_ would send it away.”

“You’re right. Boggarts can’t. But Pennywise _can._ That’s because Boggarts are only little pieces of Pennywise that broke out from It when It first came to Earth. Then those pieces went all over the world, and became known as Boggarts.”

Richie continued to explain about the origin of Pennywise—and how he and his friends became involved with It. He told her about the summer in 1989 that started it all, and Hermione vaguely remembered of the really young boy that used to follow Richie and his friends. Little Georgie Denbrough. She could only listen to her cousin’s story with wide eyes as Richie explained how he and his friends had defeated the alien, but had failed to realise that they should have killed It. Hermione would have felt offended that Richie never told her about this, but the truth was, she _did._ She noticed how weird Richie was acting during the two years she last spent with him, but when she told her parents about it, they said it was because Richie was going through puberty. So Hermione, who always believed her parents wholeheartedly, never questioned it. Then two years later, she lost contact with Richie, and she just forgot about all together. For the second time that night, she felt terrible. She felt like she’d been a horrible friend to Richie. But Richie didn’t give her a chance to apologise, because he kept on going with his story, flashing forward to twenty seven years later, when his friend Mike Hanlon had called them all back to fight Pennywise again.

When Richie revealed that he and his friends had made a blood vow, swearing that they would return to Derry to fight Pennywise again if It ever came back, Hermione was flabbergasted. Even Muggles knew that blood vows were sacred, and they didn’t have magic. Surely Richie, who was already a competent wizard at that point, despite his young age, knew that a blood vow was just as dangerous and as binding as an Unbreakable Vow. Added to the fact there was a powerful dark entity on the loose, _and_ a powerful wizard being one of the participants, it was practically a recipe for disaster. But Hermione then remembered how stupidly loyal Richie was to people he cared about, so she wisely kept her mouth shut. Then Richie told her about Stanley taking his own life from the fear of facing Pennywise again, followed by Eddie’s death just two days later, and Hermione felt her heart broke for him. Richie lost not only his best friend but also the love of his life—all in the span of a weekend. No wonder Richie looked terrible. To lose so many in such a short period of time…

“I’m sorry, Rich,” Hermione whispered as she pulled the man into a hug. “I’m really sorry that I haven’t been there to help you.”

“You didn’t know, Herms,” Richie said, his voice a little muffled because his face was pressed against Hermione head. “We hadn’t been talking for over twenty years, remember? When you came to my parents' funeral. I wasn’t even there, for fuck's sake; left my manager to do everything because I was on a _fucking tour—_ because I was too much of a coward to deal with the loss of the only family I had left back then. If I had been there, we could have met way sooner.”

“Don’t say that. You’re _not_ a coward,” Hermione reprimanded firmly. “You’re definitely one of the bravest men I know, Richie. And believe me, I’ve met some of the bravest people during the war against Lord Voldemort.”

“Thank you,” the former comedian said, sniffling as he pulled back from Hermione. Despite the fact that he was three and a half years older than her, he looked so much younger when he blinked his tearful eyes at her.

“Don’t mention it, cous,” she replied, patting his hand gently. “Do you need anything, by the way? Because I’ll be more than glad to help you. Just say it to me, and I’ll do it.”

Hermione realised too late the mistake she’d made by saying those words.

“You mean that?” Richie whispered, but one look at his blue eyes, she saw the determination in them.

“Well, as long as it is—“

“I need you to lend me a Time Turner,” Richie said before Hermione could amend her statement.

_You’re a fucking idiot, Hermione Granger._

She felt like hexing herself for her own stupidity.

She was the Prime Minister of Magic, for crying out loud! She should have known better than to say that to anyone. Let alone a desperate and broken man who would do _anything_ to bring back the people he loved.

“Richie,” Hermione started slowly. Her heart was beating hard against her chest as she chose her words carefully, worried that the smallest mistake could set her cousin off. “Richie, you know that I can’t possibly lend you a Time Turner, right? Not only it is illegal for me, I also don’t have one at the ready with me. You see, in 1995, Harry and I accidentally destroyed all of the Time Turners the government had. So, even if I found a way to give it to you without breaking a law, _no one_ in this country has a Time Turner.”

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched the various expressions cross Richie’s face during her explanation. There was first the shock, then the despair, then there was rage, and finally Richie’s face showed nothing. And that terrified Hermione _more_ than the rage that made Richie’s eyes flash dangerously behind his glasses. She had only seen that look on Sirius Black’s face before, back in her third year, when he and Remus were going to kill Peter Pettigrew. It was the look of a man who had lost everything, and was ready to do anything it took to change that. When Richie straightened in his seat, Hermione couldn’t help but to reach for her wand inside the pocket of her robes. But before her fingers could wind themselves around it, the wand had flown out from her pocket and into Richie’s open palm—and he did all of that _wandlessly._ For the first time that night, Hermione was reminded of the fact that Richie had somehow bypassed _all_ of her Protection Charms that she cast in and around her office, and seemingly appeared from out of nowhere into her office. For the first time that night, she acknowledged the powerful magic Richie had, and how much stronger it had become now.

For the first time that night, she was terrified of her cousin.

She only wished that Richie didn’t find out that she _did_ have a Time Turner, and that it was at her house, where she and her family lived.

Where her husband and son were currently at.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Hermione,” Richie said, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he stood up from the couch before making his way to her desk. “You’re my cousin. My best friend. The only family I have left. I will never hurt you, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied stiffly, eyeing her cousin closely. He had her back to her, so she couldn’t really see what he was doing. “And I’m truly sorry that I can’t help you, Rich. Anything else, I probably can give to you. But not a Time Turner. I’m sorry.”

She fought back the urge to flinch when Richie turned around to face her again, an unreadable look on his face. He was leaning back on her desk, his left hand propped on it to hold his weight while his hand was hanging next to his thigh, holding her wand captive. Giving her a small smile, he said, “I know you’re never going to give me a Time Turner. Even though you _do_ have it hiding somewhere in your home right now.”

“Richie—“

“But that’s okay, though. I already have a new solution anyway. _You_ unknowingly gave it to me, cous. So, I suppose I should thank you.”

“What do you mean—“

“ _Catch!”_

Richie threw her wand at her, leaving Hermione with no choice but to take her eyes off of him so she could catch it. The moment she had her wand in her hand again, she quickly aimed at Richie, ready with a Stunning Spell at the tip of her tongue. But the split second it took to catch her wand was apparently more than enough time for Richie, because the next thing Hermione knew, the man had disappeared. Wandlessly, without alerting any of her Protection Wards. The only other person she’d known, and seen firsthand, who was able to do that was Dumbledore, and the implication that her cousin was probably as powerful as Dumbledore worried her. His departure did alleviate her worries, although she made a mental note that she would have to strengthen her wards as well as to look more into Richie's life. She approached her desk, letting out a huge sigh as she threw herself into her seat. Leaning on her desk, her face buried in her hands, was when Hermione finally noticed that something was wrong. That when she remembered Richie's parting words.

And realised that he'd stolen something.

"Son of a bitch," Hermione cursed under her breath, already whipping out her wand to send out alerts through her Patronus to everyone in the Ministry. "That lying, scheming, motherfucking _asshole_! I can't _believe_ he did this to me!"

Because Richie Tozier had stolen the proposal to the Sirius Black project—which detailed all the information he needed to use the Veil as a Time Machine.

"What is it, Granger?" Draco Malfoy drawled out, his head floating in her Fireplace. There was that permanent scowl on his face that she'd become familiar with in the ten years they'd become friends. "Do you need me to educate you again on Quidditch so you can give your husband the perfect anniversary gift?"

"I need to talk you," Hermione said stiffly, ignoring Malfoy's insult, which brought an even more serious look onto the billionaire wizard's face. "And I need to talk to Harry and Teddy Lupin as well."

"Is something wrong?" Malfoy asked. "Did you change your mind? Are you not going to approve our proposal? And why the hell not, Minister Granger? Is it because of me? Is it because-"

"The Proposal's stolen."

A beat, then- "We'll be right there."

* * *

_"...is an enigmatic structure located in the Department of Mysteries..."_

_"...18 June 1996, the wizard Sirius Black fell into the Veil..."_

_"...result in instant death by capturing the victim inside a Void..."_

_"...found that it can also be used as a one-way Time Machine..."_

_"...project aims to bring back Sirius Black from the Veil..."_

_"...needs someone really powerful to take Sirius Black's place..."_

_"...spell to activate is ' Quid est nisi amissa, redde quod meum est cum esset'..."_

_"...consequences are still unknown, because it might backfire and trap both of them instead."_

From the moment Richie popped in his cousin's fancy office, a Disillusionment Charm cast over himself, he'd known that Hermione didn't have the Time Turner with her. Growing up under the tutelage of Newt Scamander and Tina Goldstein, Richie was used to sensing magic objects around him, even when he hadn't been using his magic actively for the past twenty years. He was about to give up, about to go back to drinking himself numb, hoping that one day he'd just die from alcohol poisoning. But then he saw the document his cousin was holding in her hand, read the content of the proposal for the project that Teddy Lupin has presented for Hermione's approval. He recognised Harry Potter's name as the overseer of the research, and Draco Malfoy's name as the sponsor. He might not know much about the magical world he was supposed to be involved in, let alone the British Wizarding World that his cousin had been leading for the past few years. But like he'd told her before, Richie had done his research. And he knew that those two names were probably two of the most important names after Hermione. It was enough for him to guarantee the validity of the research, and it didn't take long for Richie to make a decision.

He was going to take Sirius Black's place inside the Veil, and hope that Lupin's research worked.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Richie said when he saw Hermione barging into the Department of Mysteries with almost twenty people behind her.

"Richie, stop!"

But he'd jumped into the Veil.


	2. Should have taken her advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so glad that I finally managed to update this story. I'm sorry it took a while. Life has been crazy *sighs* I hope you guys are doing alright, though😊 Please tell me what do you think so far. I really hope you like it!

Draco Malfoy had seen a lot of insane things in his life. After all, he lived in a world of magic. Everything was bound to be a bit… _illogical._ He was aware that there were lots of magical aspects to his world that were yet to be found or explored, and that was why he’d decided to dedicate his business to fund studies and discoveries that he believed could make everyone’s lives so much better. It actually went easier than he’d expected—although he suspected this had something to do with his friendship with Hermione Granger-Weasley. They’d become friends after their professors kept setting them up as partners for their assignments, since they were the smartest in their year. Naturally, it took sometime before they got over their initial hatred toward one another. But once they discovered that they worked really well as a team, their friendship developed. Eighteen years later, Draco was proud to call the woman his best friend. He’d even made Granger his son’s Godmother.

And every day, he thanked whatever celestial being was in charge of his life for the second chance he had.

“Malfoy, I need to talk to you for a minute. It’s important,” the silver otter said in Granger’s familiar bossy voice that made Draco roll his eyes. Unfortunately, despite their friendship, Granger still managed to get on his nerves from time to time.

If anything, she was even _worse_ now that they were friends. But Draco preferred _not_ to get hexed by Granger, thank you very much, so he did as he was told. Besides, it was his wife’s birthday, and he’d planned to take her to the Maldives to celebrate it. The sooner he did whatever Granger wanted him to do, the better it would be for him. He truly wasn’t expecting something fatal, having had this kind of request in the past. Believing that the bossy witch was panicking over something stupid related to her equally stupid husband, Draco stuck his head into his fireplace and contacted Granger via the Floo Network. Obviously though, like everything in his life, he was wrong.

Because _of course_ Granger had an _extremely_ powerful cousin that would jeorpadise the safety of the wizarding world.

* * *

Richie woke up feeling a bit disorientated. He couldn’t remember what had happened before, let alone remember where he was. It took him a while to collect his thoughts, and his brain was muddled in the way it always was whenever he woke up with a hangover. For a split second, he thought he’d gone on a bender again, like he’d done multiple times over the past year. That thought brought back his memories, and that was when he finally remembered everything—seeing Hermione’s face on the front page of the _New York Oracle_ that he’d somehow obtained in his drunken state, Apparating directly to his long-forgotten cousin’s office after deciding that he’d need her help, finding the proposal of a project that would solve his problem, running away from his cousin and her men to get to the portal, and then jumping into the sodding portal that brought him _here._

Wherever the fuck here was.

Sluggishly, Richie rose up into a sitting position, and that was when he noticed that he’d been lying on a bed that was familiar to him. On his right, he saw the blurry shapes of his glasses on the bedside table, and he quickly put them on. The first thing he noticed was Uma Thurman staring at him with a pout on her pretty face from the huge poster of _Pulp Fiction_ plastered on the wall across from him. Richie spent the next ten seconds staring right back at her before he turned his attention to the calendar next to it, his eyes widening as he saw the date on it. The year. _18 June 1996._ Richie got off of the bed and slowly made his way toward the calendar, feeling his hands trembling a little. But then he caught sight of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, and Richie thought he was going to have a heart attack from the shock. Just before he was able to take a proper look, the door slammed open, and his mother barged in.

His mother, who had been dead for twelve years.

“Oh, you’re up,” Maggie Tozier said, pleasantly surprised. There was a smile on her beautiful face. A smile that Richie had always believed to be reserved specially for him.

“Mum?” Richie said dumbly. “Is it… Is it really you?”

Maggie raised her eyebrows, her smile dropping as she nodded warily. “Uh, yes? Who else am I gonna be, love? Winona Ryder—oh, _wow._ ”

Richie had pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, burying his face into her hair. The last time he’d seen her, he was visiting her and his father after his first ever show in 2004. It was years before he’d hired a ghost writer. He’d flown in to Chicago to celebrate Christmas with his parents. Both Maggie and Wentworth told him countless times how _proud_ they were of him, that he’d finally managed to fulfil his dream. He took them out to a fancy dinner with his newly acquired success, and he could only blush as his parents showered him compliments throughout the dinner. He stayed with them for only three days, because he had to come back to California to continue his tour. Richie noticed how his parents were disappointed that he had to leave so soon, so he made them a promise that once his tour was over, he’d take them on a trip to France. His parents objected, of course, like the good parents they were. They insisted that as long as Richie came home, that was more than enough. But Richie was just as stubborn, and he told them that after he was done with his tour, he would send them a car that would take them to O’Hare International Airport, where he would be waiting for them so they could take their flight together. Maggie and Wentworth finally relented, and the couple waved Richie away as he left on a taxi.

Maggie and Wentworth died in a car crash two months later, on their way to O’Hare International.

And Richie’s life had spiraled down into a mess ever since.

“Richie?” his mother said softly, her fingers carding through his hair gently as he sobbed into her hair. “Richie, darling, what’s wrong? Hey, come on. You know you can tell me, kid.”

“It’s nothing, Mum” Richie choked out, finally pulling back so he could look at his mother. He gave her a small smile, hoping that it was believable enough. “Believe me, it’s nothing. I just missed you.”

“Richard,” Maggie sighed as she brought her hands up to cup his face. “I know you, okay? You’re my son. My beloved baby boy. I always know when something’s troubling you. I always know when you lie to me about it. And I can see that what it is you’re keeping from me is killing you. So, _please_ tell me what’s wrong. I want to help. I really do, love.”

Richie swallowed hard, eyeing his mother closely. Maggie looked exactly like she had the last time Richie had seen her in 2004, albeit a little younger now. He could still see the same love and warmth that she gave to him in an abundance. While he loved his father a great deal, there was always a special place in Richie’s heart for his mother. The first woman in his life that had loved and accepted him before Hermione Granger and Beverly Marsh. However, unlike Hermione and Beverly, who had families of their own to care for, Richie knew that his mother was the only one that would always be there for him, no matter what. She might not be able to help in the way that Hermione or even Beverly could, but Maggie would definitely stand by his side through everything. If all of this failed—if Richie had to deal with living a life forever without Eddie by his side, at least this time, he had his mother.

"It's a long story, Mum," Richie said finally said, his voice catching. "And it's rather insane."

Maggie shrugged, pulling Richie to sit down with her on his bed, her hands still clasped around Richie's bigger ones. "Well, tell me anyway. I promise I'll believe you. Just because you don’t use your magic, it doesn’t mean that I forget you’re a _wizard_. I suppose nothing will surprise me at this point."

"What if I tell you that I'm from the future?" Richie replied in a rush. "Would you believe me then, Mum? I mean, I’m not exactly _your_ Richie."

Maggie looked offended when she answered him. “Richard Wentworth Tozier. How many times do I have to tell you that you’re _my_ son? That means that I will always love you, and accept you, and support you. Don't you dare go thinking that just because you're from the future, I would treat you differently. You're my baby boy, darling. You always will be."

“ _Mum,_ ” Richie choked out, pulling the woman once again into his arms.

And he told her _everything._

He told her about defeating Pennywise the first time. He told her about the future where he had indirectly caused his parents’ death, and how his life had gone downhill ever since. He told her about coming back to Derry over twenty years later to defeat Pennywise. He told her about Stanley, about Eddie. _Most importantly about Eddie._ Maggie was silent through all of that, even when he’d told her about all the self-destructive things he’d done after Eddie’s death. But there were tears in her eyes, and they fell profusely as she listened to how Richie had gone all the way back to meet the cousin he hadn’t talked to in over thirty years, _begging_ her to help him to get Eddie back. By the time Richie reached the part about the Veil, he noticed that his father was standing by the door, listening to his story with tears in his own eyes. The same blue eyes that Richie had inherited. He didn’t know how long Wentworth had been standing there, but it looked like he’d been listening for quite sometime, judging by the look on his face.

“So yeah, I came back in time and traded places with Sirius Black,” Richie said in a fake cheerful tone. “All because I was a weak idiot and a huge disappointment.”

“Don’t say that,” Wentworth said sharply, marching forward so he could pull Richie into his arms. “That’s my son you’re talking about, asshole. And he’s the _best._ ”

“Dad, you’re embarrassing me,” Richie said, already crying again for the second time that day. “Unhand me, you old sap.”

“No,” Wentworth said, sounding serious compared to Richie’s lame attempt to be teasing. His accent made a strong reappearance when he spoke again. “My _God,_ Rich; you’ve been through hell for decades _._ And your mum and I haven’t been there for you like we should have been. Believe me when I say that we’re hugging you until next year. That’s the very least.”

“I won’t even let you out of the house,” Maggie said, joining the hug. She was on her tip-toes when she rained kisses all over his face.

Richie let out a wet laugh as he buried his face in his mother’s hair, for the umpteenth time that day feeling drained right to his soul. “I’m glad the Veil sent me here. I missed you guys so much.”

_(I promise I’ll fix everything.)_

_(I’m_ not _going to lose you two again.)_

“Are you going to contact the Scamanders?” Wentworth asked. “Maybe they can help.”

“Not right now,” Richie said. “No matter how kind they are, I don’t think they’d be okay with me breaking about a billion rules on time travelling. You remember how strict Tina is. She'd _definitely_ give me her infamous Goldstein Frown.”

“I knew I liked that woman for a reason,” Maggie said with a smile as she pushed a plate of sandwiches towards Richie.

“Yeah, it’s frightening how well you two get along,” Richie replied, cringing a bit. Newt and Tina had become some sort of uncle and aunt for Richie, and he loved them a great deal. But that didn’t mean he was a fan of Tina when she teamed up with Maggie to yell at him for being reckless with his magic.

“There’s also the fact that whatever magic it was that sent Richie back in time, I don’t think it’s the kind of magic Newt and Tina are familiar with,” Wentworth added helpfully. “At least, not now in 1996. I wouldn't be surprised if what Richie's done could send him to jail. I figure time travelling is a serious business, even for wizards and witches.”

Wentworth was the smartest person Richie ever knew. It was no surprise to him that even though he was a Muggle, the old man could fully grasp the severity of Richie's actions.

“Exactly,” Richie confirmed. “And uh, don’t yell at me, but the magic that sent me back hasn’t been… _properly_ experimented with. It’s all purely theoretical. It’s actually something a recently-graduated student came up with. Granted, the boy is said to be the brightest in his year, and he’s supported by two of the most powerful and successful wizards in England.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Maggie sighed. She shared a look with her husband, a look that Richie had known since he was a child meant was he in Deep Shit. He waited with baited breath as he watched his mother squeeze his father’s hand gently before she turned her attention back to Richie. “Right. Since we can’t contact Newt and Tina, and since your father and I know next to nothing about the magical world, I suppose this leaves us with no choice.”

“Oh, no…” Richie muttered, already knowing what his mother was saying.

“Oh, yes,” Maggie said firmly. “Went, honey, would you mind contacting Ruby? Tell them we’re visiting them in a couple of days. I’ll go pack our bags now.”

“Sure thing, Mags,” Wentworth, already dialing his sort-of estranged sister’s number.

“Mum, Dad,” Richie quickly said, also rising up from his seat. “This is _my_ mess. I’ll sort it all—”

“ _No,”_ Maggie cut him off, glaring at him in a way that meant she wasn’t going to accept any kind of argument from Richie. “I told you before, Rich; you’re my son. My baby boy. And I’ll do _anything_ for you. And I think I can say the same for your father. This means that whatever insane plan you’ve cooked up, we’re going to help you get through it. _Together._ ”

Richie sighed heavily but said nothing more, knowing that his mother was just as stubborn as he was. He just hoped that this time, with his parents tagging along with him, he could still save them.

“Alright, alright,” Richie sighed. “We’ll all go to England together to visit Hermione. You two stubborn, old fossils…”

“Good boy,” Maggie said, reaching out to ruffle Richie’s hair fondly.

_(Something deep inside Richie twinged in pain. Where the core of his magic was centred. But Richie barely realised it, because he was already too busy planning a way to explain such complex magic, involving his time travel, to his seventeen-year-old cousin.)_

* * *

His head was pounding so, _so_ bad. It only worsened when his hearing started to work, and he noticed the outrageous noise that surrounded him. Then he felt someone gently shaking him into waking up, and he grumpily thought that whoever it was who was trying to wake him clearly had little to no manners at all because _really_. Every decent human being knew it was horribly impolite to bother anyone with a killer headache. But he supposed he _was_ a good person. Most of the time anyway. At least, that was what he liked to tell himself, what he liked to think of himself. So he complied. Carefully, so he wouldn’t upset the pounding in his head, he slowly opened his eyes.

_And nearly had his eyes blinded by the light!_

Whose bright idea was it to invent Light? What an idiot.

“…off with the Lumos. You’re going to blind him.”

That voice. He knew that voice. It sounded familiar, but different at the same time.

“Prime Minister—"

“Do as he says.”

And that second voice too. That one was a little more familiar.

Who were they? Better yet, _where_ was he?

What had happened?

With those questions in mind, Sirius Black, the last direct male descendant of the Black family, decided to open his eyes, but much more carefully this time. He blinked his eyes a few times before he could focus his sight. The first thing that he saw was a mop of curly, dark-brown hair that reminded him of his favourite cousin, Andromeda. Lowering his eyes a little bit, he found himself looking into a pair of golden-green eyes that he was so familiar with. _Moony._ That was his first thought, and it almost made him cry. But when he blinked one more time, and those brown curls brightened into neon-pink, Sirius realised that this person in front of him couldn’t be Remus Lupin. For one, he couldn’t be older than twenty. The boy still had that youthful look about him that his dear friend Moony no longer had. For another, Sirius had only seen those curls on top of Andromeda’s head, and the only Metamorphmagus that he knew of was Andy’s daughter, Nymphadora Tonks. An idea came into Sirius’ mind, but he quickly banished it.

Because there was _no way_ Remus and Tonks could have had a grown up son together.

He knew he’d spent twelve years in Azkaban, but he didn’t think he could miss _that_ much.

Last time he checked, his best friend was still hung up on the death of his late girlfriend Dorcas Meadowes, who had been dead for over a decade.

Besides, the years just didn’t add up. If Remus and Tonks had a grown-up son, that would make Remus a _teenager_ when he became a father, which meant that Tonks hadn’t even been born yet.

Unless Sirius had somehow… _skipped_ the past few years, gone into the future—and that was just _impossible_. Utterly ridiculous.

“…’rius? Sirius, can you hear me?”

Swallowing heavily, the heir to the Black fortune gave a small nod as he focused his attention back on this not-so-unfamiliar stranger. “Y-yes. I can.”

The boy smiled, and this time, his hair straightened and changed into purple. “That’s great to hear. What is… what is the last thing you remember?”

Sirius frowned, thinking hard about his last memories. Almost immediately, everything came flooding back to him in a rush, and he was overwhelmed by it. He remembered _everything._ He was just about to treat himself to a nice cup of tea when Snape had come barging into Grimmauld Place, with a panic-stricken Remus by his side. Sirius only hear the words ‘Harry’, ‘danger’, and ‘Ministry’ before he quickly ran out of the jail he’d been forced into for the past year and Apparated into the Ministry of Magic. His heart was beating madly against his ribcage as he hoped that nothing terrible had happened to his Godson. When he saw Harry being cornered by Lucius Malfoy and his insane cousin Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius didn’t waste a second in coming to the boy’s rescue. Despite the curses and hexes flying all over the place, Sirius was in his element. Even as he urgently told Harry to leave with his friends, he couldn’t help but to feel a thrill of excitement coursing through him. It was probably why Bellatrix had managed to—

Hold up.

Bellatrix. The Prophecy. _Harry._

_Godric, is he okay?_

“Harry,” Sirius said, his voice barely audible. But judging from the way the whispers began to erupt around him, he supposed people had heard him still. Clearing his throat, Sirius turned his attention back to the boy in front of him and tried one more time to ask for Harry. “Do you know him? Do you know- where’s my Godson? Oh no, have I _failed_ him again?”

The easy-smile on the boy’s face dropped for a split second as he turned his head a bit to look over his shoulder. Hiding in the shadows, Sirius acknowledged for the first time the two people there. The first one was a tall man, and he had his hands crossed stiffly against his chest. From where he was still half-lying on the ground, Sirius couldn’t tell who it was, even though the person looked vaguely familiar. Turning his attention to the second person beside the man, Sirius noticed how the person’s much smaller build indicated the person was probably a woman, and Sirius could tell that _she_ was the one who held authority. People seemed to look in her direction, silently asking for her guidance. Even the person beside her easily followed her lead when the two of them made their way toward Sirius.

And when she came into the light, Sirius knew that he was right. He _did_ know her.

The first thing Sirius noticed was that she was _a lot_ older than the last time he’d seen her, which couldn’t be more than half an hour ago. Heck, she looked to be around the same age as Sirius was. Her hair was a lot tamer than the crazy curls that identified her, and it was cut shorter too. But there was no mistaking that she was Hermione Granger, his Godson’s best friend. She didn’t seem to be too interested in him though, and her intelligent brown eyes were focused on the Veil that Sirius had just come out from. The man beside her, who Sirius only now recognised as none other than Draco Malfoy, his cousin Narcissa’s beloved son, was the one who settled his attention on Sirius. He flashed Sirius a small smile, which lessened his resemblance to Lucius, and made him look a lot more like Narcissa. Except, in the brief years Sirius had known his cousin, he’d never seen such a genuine smile on her face. First rule of the Noble House of Black—

_Blacks did not smile at anyone._

But before either the young Malfoy or Sirius could talk to each other, Hermione broke the silence first, with one hand pressed against her temple and a pained look in her eyes.

“Granger, you’re alright?” Malfoy asked, worried. “Do you need me to call Weasley or—”

“It’s started,” Hermione whispered. “He’s already changing things.”

And then she turned to look at her partner, her eyes wide in the kind of terror that told Sirius they were dealing with Serious Shit.

* * *

_“Granger residence.”_

_“Hey, Rubes. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it.”_

_“Why, if it isn’t my dearest big brother Wentworth.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just out of curiosity, who do guys picture in mind for Wentworth, Maggie, Hermione, Draco and Sirius? For me, I pictured Jeff Bridges as Wentworth, Rene Russo as Maggie, Michelle Dockery as Hermione, Dan Stevens as Draco, and Ben Barnes as Sirius. Feel free to tell me about your faceclaims! I would love to hear them😊

**Author's Note:**

> Titles for the story and for the chapters are taken from the song Void by The Neighbourhood :)


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